


Xho'rdia

by Ashkaztra



Series: Davo'thi [1]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:08:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27790519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashkaztra/pseuds/Ashkaztra
Summary: Just because you're done with the past doesn't mean the past is done with you. Sometimes, you find it lurking in the least expected places.At least the past brought explosives this time.
Series: Davo'thi [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2033194
Comments: 12
Kudos: 22





	Xho'rdia

**Author's Note:**

> So, ages ago, I had an idea to write a worshipper John!AU. This has gone through so many iterations before becoming ... *waves arms* This thing. Still not sure what this is. There will hopefully be more of it, as you can probably tell from the fact that it's the first of a series :P

It was near impossible to feel dignified when thrown over a Masked Wraith's shoulder like a sack of potatoes, so John didn't bother trying. Instead, he took the time to ponder his next move. 

Finding Wraith on Khora had been an unexpected — and unpleasant — discovery. The planet was uninhabited, having been devastated by a terrible plague shortly after the Ancients had left the galaxy, and there wasn't much in the way of natural resources to draw anyone there. Not unless they wanted sand. Khora had that in abundance. John had taken to using it as a good place to get rid of things that needed to be destroyed to keep them out of hostile hands because, quite frankly, a few explosions more did nothing to make the planet less of a deserted wasteland. 

Mostly, there was sand. Sand and the occasional rock. 

And Wraith, apparently, though that was a new one.

They had to have been there a while; though Wraith architecture grew pretty fast, it didn't reach the size of the facility looming in front of them easily. John had no idea why they were there, however, or what they were doing, and he didn't like mysteries when they involved Wraith. There was no immediately obvious reason for there to be a Wraith presence. No food, no natural resources, no old Ancient ruins. Just sand, and unless they were setting up a sand pit for their hatchlings, John didn't see any way Wraith would need sand. 

He'd had to get to the bottom of the mystery somehow, and that meant getting into the facility somehow. Getting captured hadn't been his first plan, or the second or third plan, but it had happened, and it did mean getting inside, so he couldn't complain too much.

Aside from the part where he was slung over the shoulder of a Masked who had a solid grip on his butt, he supposed, but that was a sacrifice he'd just have to make. 

At least the Masked weren't particularly observant, which meant that John was free to look around as they moved, mapping out the facility in his head as best he could. Because of the organic nature of Wraith buildings, they didn't always follow logical patterns, but John had been in many enough to start recognizing the general structure. Between that knowledge and his memory, he was pretty sure he could get back out. With any luck, he could get back out before any of the Attendants began paying him too much attention. 

First, though, he needed to figure out what the Wraith were doing there in the first place. 

Eventually, the Masked stopped in front of a holding pen, the door parting to let them throw John inside. 

The floor was warmer than stone would be, but it was still hard, and John gave a small groan as he landed, the air momentarily knocked out of him. He looked up at the ceiling as the cell closed and the Masked walked away. 

It wasn't the first time he'd found himself in a similar position, and considering his general luck, it probably wouldn't be the last time, either. This time, the Wraith hadn't even taken his gear away. 

Not that he was carrying anything they'd immediately classify as a weapon or dangerous item; John carried a bag with a notebook, some dried rations and a few bottles of water. Wraith rarely took food away from their prisoners. For one thing, it benefited them to keep their prisoners as healthy as possible, but there was also an almost cultural taboo among Wraith when it came to starvation. It was not done, unless there was a very good reason. It wasn't the bag contents that was what John needed, though the food and water would almost certainly come in useful. However, under the thick, layered bottom of the bag, two knives were hidden away, made to be almost undetectable when in their holder.

A gift, and one that had saved his life several times.

They hadn't taken his bracer, either, or the pendant around his neck. The bracer was mostly useless; it had his clock set into it, but that was for his own reference only. Useful for timing things, but not much else since the day-night cycle on each planet varied wildly. It also had a pencil for his notebook, but that was even less of use to him in a Wraith cell, unless he wanted to write equations on the luminescent membranes. He supposed he could keep himself busy that way, but it wouldn't get him anywhere, not closer to whatever they were doing here, and not closer to escaping. 

Still, he filed it away for a distraction, should he need one.

The pendant, though — That had a purpose. It didn't look like much, just a broken piece of control crystal on a leather strap, as was the fashion among scavenger groups in the galaxy. Unlike most such pendants, however, which held scrambled fragments of data if anything at all, his held something entirely more sinister. A data program, designed especially to damage Wraith systems and hinder the self-repair. It was a very clever little program, and John fully intended to leave it behind in the facility system once he had the information he wanted. 

No point in simply walking away if he could do something more permanent. 

John had learnt early that he couldn't meet Wraith head on. It had taught him to get creative, finding ways to work around that fact. The Pegasus galaxy had taught him vindictiveness, in a way nothing had before. Combining the two had kept him alive. 

He intended to stay that way, which meant getting out of the holding pen before the Wraith decided that it was lunch time. 

Carefully, he removed one of the knives from the false bottom and hid it up his sleeve. Sometimes, it was all about having a literal trick up his sleeve. 

Another lesson the galaxy had taught him well. 

He was considering his options when the sound of footsteps interrupted him. That was a lot of heavy boots, and they were heading his way. Instinctively, he made his way to the back of the pen, where he could see the entire area but wasn't immediately within line of sight himself, and leaned back against a light membrane, the warmth and movement a slight comfort. 

A Blade came around the corner, leading several Masked and a bunch of human prisoners. John didn't pay the Blade much mind; he was clearly a junior officer just tasked with handling the prisoners. The prisoners themselves, though, were interesting. For one thing, they were all in uniform, a dark grey uniform that looked more like BDUs than anything John had seen in the galaxy before. Any weapons they had been carrying had been taken away, but they still looked like they were dangerous. 

Three of them did, at least. The last one, a man about John's age, was softer and looked worried where the other three looked grim. 

Interesting. 

The other three were clearly trained fighters. Two of them, the dark-haired man and the blonde woman, John pegged as military of some sort from the way they moved, and the way the woman looked to the man for cues. It was clear she trusted in his leadership. The last one was another woman, darker skinned and shorter than the blonde. She also carried herself in a way that made it obvious she could fight, but there was less military rigidity to it and more grace. 

None of them wore anything that identified their origins, which was so obvious it had to be deliberate. Whoever they were, they didn't want anyone knowing where they came from. A good strategy, but not one John saw a lot in the Pegasus galaxy, where people often had nothing but the pride in their people to cling to. 

Their uniforms were similarly devoid of obvious hints at their origin, which made them stand out more than anything. They might not reveal anything, but dressed like that, everyone could tell that they didn't belong. John had gone for the opposite tactics, wearing clothing so painfully generic to as many cultures as possible, making it impossible to say where he was from but letting him fade into the crowds anywhere with ease. That they'd chosen the uniforms meant they were either uncaring that they stood apart in a crowd, or they were subject to some kind of regulation. Even the Genii dressed down to blend in. 

Definitely interesting. 

The Blade who had led them there watched as the Masked shoved their prisoners into the pen and then stalked off in a way that made it clear he found prisoner handling below him. Just as well. John didn't want to deal with four strangers and a moody Wraith at the same time. The Masked filed out after him, leaving them alone in the holding area. 

Apparently, the new prisoners hadn't noticed him yet, so John took a moment to observe them, now that the Wraith were gone. The dark-haired man, apparently the leader, turned to his people the moment the Wraith were gone, checking up on them in a voice too low for John to hear. From the movements and gestures, it seemed the darker woman and the other man were mostly fine, the blonde woman indicating an injured arm. None of them seemed in any immediate danger, though. 

Mostly, they seemed upset at having been caught, which John couldn't blame them for. He had to wonder, though, why they had come to Khora. Even the Wraith had no resources to gain from Khora, and they were by far the most advanced species in the galaxy. If they couldn't refine the resources here, there was little for anyone else to gain. 

John was starting to feel like there was something he was missing about Khora, and he didn't like not having all the information. 

The newcomers were interesting, but they meant he had to change his plans. Originally, he'd intended to find a maintenance tunnel and head to the bottom of the nature of the facility. Literally to the bottom; while this wasn't a hive ship, Wraith structures were similar enough that the most important chambers would always be in the middle, where they were most protected from outside attacks. 

After all, the largest threat to Wraith were other Wraith. 

They rarely took inside attacks into account, which was what John had counted on. With these newcomers in the picture, though, that was suddenly not the best route to go. 

He knew far more about Wraith than most humans. Too much, about the Wraith themselves and their structures. That would only lead to suspicion and potential conflict, which John couldn't really afford at the moment. His knives were better against humans than Wraith, but he was outnumbered.

Besides, the newcomers were a mystery in themselves; their uniforms and attitude was unlike anyone John had ever encountered, and solving mysteries was a large part of what he did. In a conflict where the big players all had the same weapons, it was information that decided who'd win and who'd lose, and John had a vested interest in coming out on top. 

For now, he had no better option than to hang back and watch the others, to see what they would do. 

It was the bronze-skinned woman who noticed him first, putting her hand on the dark-haired man's arm to quietly get his attention. The rest of them seemed genuinely surprised, which amused John greatly. He didn't fade nearly as much into the background as some of the people he knew did, even when actively trying. At the moment, he wasn't even doing that, just leaning back against the membrane as he watched them.

"I didn't realise we weren't the only ones in here," the dark-haired man said, coming a bit closer. 

"You looked busy," John said, pushing off from the membrane so he was standing up properly.

It was so weird to be the tallest person in a room again. 

"I didn't want to get in your way." Checking up on his people would have been John's first priority, too, back in the days. 

The darker woman frowned. "What brings you to Khora? This world is deserted." 

_Could have asked you the same,_ John thought, but refrained from commenting on it. "I hide things here," he said. "Nobody ever comes here. It seemed a good idea." 

"Hide things?" The man asked, looking at him. Not with suspicion, exactly, but with surprise. 

"You are Kel Toryn?" The woman said, more as an accusation than a question.

It was a reason why he used it as a cover story. It worked so well without ever having to work for it, and it excused at least some of his more unusual knowledge. 

"Kel Toryn?" The man asked, which John filed away immediately. It was rare to find someone who didn't know of the Kel Toryn.

The woman looked at him, and then over at John again, frowning in disapproval. "They are a group of scavengers," she explained. She knew about them, but her team didn't. Interesting. "They make a living from scavenging the remnants of the Ancestral cities." 

The Kel Toryn were generally shunned by the rest of the galaxy, but not actively met with hostility, which made it an excellent cover. He was left to his own devices, which made it a lot easier to do his job.

"I'm only trying to survive," John informed them, which was true. Everything choice he had made had been to keep surviving. "I didn't expect to find anyone here, much less Wraith." 

"I don't think anyone expected to find Wraith here," the man said, looking over at the rest of his team. "Any luck?"

The other man looked up from what seemed to be a small analyser of some sort. "We're not close enough to the source to pick up signals. If I'd had my actual equipment, and not just this thing—" 

The blonde snorted. "Thank you so much for getting your arm broken causing a distraction so I could hide the receiver," she said, and the man gave her an annoyed look. She grinned unapologetically. 

"We need to get closer if we want to know what's going on," the scientist — he had to be — informed. "Or we could just escape and come back with a full team. Either way, we need to get out of here." He seemed far more interested in the latter option, his tone going hopeful as he spoke. 

The dark-haired man shook his head. "We need to know what the Wraith are doing here, and if we escape, we risk them abandoning the place."

"I was afraid you'd say that," the scientist muttered, and went back to fiddling with the device. "I can't get the doors open from in here, not without an access point." 

"We could try getting one of the big Wraith to open the door," the blonde said. "They don't seem too bright, and we could probably get past one."

The darker woman looked at the door and shook her head. "They would be able to alert the entire hive before we could get anywhere."

"So what do you suggest?" The blonde asked, looking at their leader. 

He didn't seem to have an answer, so John decided he might as well try to earn some points. These people were definitely unknown to him, and they were more advanced than even the Genii. They might be potential allies, and their goal currently matched his, so he might as well help out. It wasn't like he hadn't planned to break out, anyway. 

He fished through the bag for the second of his hidden knives. The one up his sleeve would do better hidden, but the second one was every bit as sharp and dangerous, even if the blade was shorter. "I might be able to help out," he said, showing them the knife.

"You had that all along?" The blonde demanded. "Why haven't you left yet?" She was giving him a scrutinizing look, which was fair. Sometimes, Wraith planted their sworn in the cells to get information. 

The irony almost made John laugh.

"I got captured shortly before you did," he said. "Besides, I didn't think much of my chances on my own. I'm not on my own any more, though." He might not trust them any more than they trusted him, but he'd still take them over hostile Wraith any day. 

"You realise we're not escaping yet?" The dark-haired man said, looking at him. "We're looking for something here, and we're not leaving until we've found it. You're welcome to come with us, but it might not get you out alive." 

"The chance is better than if I hang around here, though," John pointed out. Let them think he was an opportunist. It wasn't that far from the truth. 

Nodding, the dark-haired man motioned him closer to the lattice wall. "We'll keep watch," he said.

Approaching the lattice, John took his knife to the first of the strands. They were tougher than they looked. Not entirely hard, but certainly sinewy and hard to cut. His knife was sharp, though, and he had done this before. The trick to it was to watch where he cut; the nerve nodes in Wraith structures were easily hidden in the walls, but not in the much thinner lattice, and as long as the nerves weren't cut, the structure itself wouldn't raise the alarms. 

The fact that Wraith structures literally screamed if they were damaged was something he'd never quite gotten used to. 

It didn't take that long to cut an opening they could squeeze through. Because the lattice wasn't fully rigid, it allowed them to push some of it out of the way to make their way through. The dark-haired man first, the rest of them filing through after him, with the blonde forming the rear. Clearly, they were classifying John as a civilian, alongside the scientist. 

"Where to from here?" The dark-haired man asked in a hushed voice, leaning towards the scientist.

"It's hard to say this far from the signal," the scientist said, looking at his device. It looked Ancient in design, which was interesting in a lot of ways. "Best I can get is down and towards the middle."

That meant this man had the Ancient gene, which was exceedingly rare in the Pegasus galaxy, where more people had Wraith genes than Ancient ones. Mostly it was just the Turrim, and they never left their tower, as well as the Travellers. These people looked too put together and uniform to be Travellers.

It also meant that they had access to Ancient technology, which was less rare, but still enough to catch his notice. 

John definitely wanted to stay on their good side for now. 

They made their way downwards as best they could, creeping around the structure like children after curfew. It was thankfully not a very crowded structure; it seemed the majority of the guards were outside to protect from external threats. A few of the Masked were around, but they paid little attention to anything but their set task, so dodging them was relatively easy. 

"Is it just me," the blonde said, as they waited for a patrol to pass the walls they hid behind, "or is this place getting a lot warmer?"

"It is unusually warm," the other woman agreed. "Wraith structures are not usually this warm."

Wraith structures usually rerouted the heat to the living quarters, leaving the halls cool and humid, but the women were right. This structure was a lot warmer than he was used to, and still humid, which wasn't exactly pleasant. Useful, though; the heat would make the Wraith infrared sensors a lot less effective, as the warmer it got, the more they blended into the surroundings. If it got warm enough, they would be invisible to the Masked, who were already blind and relied on infrared and on cues from the Attendants and the structures. 

There was a reason Wraith kept their hallways cold. It seemed odd that they wouldn't in this structure. 

They kept creeping downward, towards the bottom of the facility. 

Closer to the core, there were more Wraith, most of which were Attendant Wits. Like the Masked, they seemed caught up in their tasks, but they had to take a lot more care to dodge around them. Unlike the Masked, these weren't blind. 

A particularly big group heading their way made them crawl through a hatch to get away, leading them out onto a ledge looking down at —

"That's a geothermal generator," the scientist whispered, looking very surprised. "They're using the planet to create power. See those machines around it? Those are injection wells. That way they can make hydrothermal energy without needing a natural reserve." 

It certainly looked impressive. John didn't miss the hive core seeds being charged along the walls. With charged cores, they could grow new ships far faster than simply seeding a host. The facility needed to be shut down. If even a few of those cores made it out, this group of Wraith would have a massive advantage. Most clans couldn't afford to grow new hive ships, not with the conflict going on. 

Apparently, the others agreed, because he could see them whispering at each other.

"We need to find our gear, the one the Wraith took," the dark-haired man explained to John, looking down at the generator. "We have explosives in there." 

Well, then. Setting off an explosion in a geothermal power plant would create one hell of an explosion. He hoped they had detonators, too. 

They crept back the way they'd come and found an empty room to regroup in. 

"Do you still have a tracker on your bag?" The dark-haired man asked the scientist. "I know you put one on because people kept taking the wrong bag." 

"I do," the scientist agreed. "The structure dampens signals, but if we get close enough, I should be able to trace it." 

"Let's just hope they put all of our stuff in the same pile," the blonde said. 

All of them were glistening with sweat after the temperatures in the core, so John shared his water and dried rations with the others, taking a small break. 

"Why did you get to keep your stuff, anyway?" The scientist asked, around a mouthful of dried fruit bar. 

"Guess they didn't think I was a threat," John said, cocking his head. "A knife isn't much threat to a Wraith." 

The darker woman nodded. "The Wraith are arrogant," she said. "They do not see most humans as anything but food. Had Laura not shot that one drone, they might not have thought us much of a threat, either." 

The blonde chuckled. "I had to provide a distraction so he could pocket the receiver," she said, motioning to the scientist. 

John wondered if he'd heard her name right, but pushed that thought away. That wasn't possible. 

Once their little meal break was over, they crept on, playing hide and seek with the patrols. The darker woman seemed to almost know when the next patrol would come, often the first to pull them into an out-of-sight location. Convenient. 

It made him wonder about her. 

Not that John couldn't have done much the same, but for him, that required effort he didn't want to risk at the moment. 

Finding the confiscated items was a lot easier than finding the generator had been. The Wraith had just stuck the items in a storage room, leaving them unattended. They went inside and begun digging through their stuff. John watched as the blonde dug through her bag.

"The explosives are still here," she said, and there was an almost collective sigh of relief. 

John's relief was interrupted, however, as the woman pulled the explosives out and stacked them. He knew those packages, had used them himself. That was C-4, and there was no C-4 in this galaxy, especially not packaged like that. The Genii had long since used what they'd taken from them, and there was no way to get it. 

No way except from Earth. The darker woman had called the blonde Laura. He hadn't heard wrong. These were people from Earth. 

There was no way back. No way back to Earth. They had known that when they stepped through the gate, had known it when they had to abandon Atlantis to its deep sea slumber. They'd known it when they'd come across the Genii and had promised allegiance for safety. Most of them had died, knowing there was no way back. 

Probably for the best. It would have been even worse, knowing that that, too, had been a lie. 

There had been a lot of lies. 

"Are you alright?" The darker woman asked, looking up at him with dark eyes. She looked concerned but there was something else there, something steely beneath the surface. 

"Just a bit exhausted," he said. "Getting a break while you resupply."

Now that he knew, he felt like a fool for not realising it sooner. He'd worn an uniform much like that himself, though a slightly different design. The impossibility of it all had made him blind, he guessed. If the C-4 hadn't already proved where they were from, their guns would have. There was no mistaking a P-90 for anything else. The Genii did have some of those, still, but unless they'd started making bullets for them, they had a bunch of empty ones. These were not empty. He watched them put the magazines in. 

"Right," the dark-haired man said, looking at the blonde. "You're the demolition expert. Finding the best locations for the explosives will be your job. We'll watch your back."

The blonde - Laura - grinned. "I'm leaving one of the charges here, on a separate detonator. We'll detonate it when we approach the exit, to cause a distraction." She looked slightly maniacal like that, but the dark-haired man only chuckled and nodded. 

He looked at John. "Do the Kel Toryn use firearms?" He asked. 

"If we can get our hands on them," John said, which was the truth. The Kel Toryn, as far as he knew, didn't manufacture weapons, but learned to use whatever they could get hold off. 

"Here," the man said, holding out his side-arm. "In case you need it. I'll be wanting it back if we survive, though." He gave John a wry grin. 

The gun felt all too familiar in his hands. Not the same model as the one he'd used, but John had trained using M9s. Not the best weapon against a Wraith, handguns generally weren't, but it beat his knives. Especially given the range of a pistol. 

"Thanks," John told him, and meant it. 

"Just don't shoot any of us, and we're good." The dark-haired man grinned, but the scientist looked appalled. 

Not that they needed to worry, John was a damn good shot, but he didn't think now was the right time to bring that up. They might be from Earth, but he had no idea how they'd gotten here or why they were there.

Getting back down a few levels to set up the explosives was remarkably easy. John had to wonder what these Wraith were doing, letting their guards down. The project was important, but there was far too few guards compared to the size of the project. Something was fishy as hell about this whole thing.

Fishy enough to make him fall back to a wall with a console as Laura was setting the the second-to-last charge, blocking it with his body as he reached in and removed the memory core. The node was warm, almost too warm, but John stuck it into his bag, covering it with as much of the rest of the contents as he could. A single core might not hold all the information, but there was no way he was getting to the main core, and they had clever people who could get as much from the core as possible. 

He left his pendant in its place, even if they were planning on blowing up the place. Better to make sure there was nothing to salvage. 

Once the last charge was set, they high-tailed it out of there as fast as they could, heading up towards the entrance. Getting as close as they could, they found a small chamber to dodge into and Laura pulled out a detonator. "Here we go," she said. "This better work."

The explosion was distant enough that they only heard some of it, but the structure itself shrieked as the alarms set in, the entire awareness around them shifting, moving violently towards the explosion. John winced inwardly, pulling his shields up even higher. Across from him, he could see the darker woman do the same.

He hadn't been imagining things earlier.

They waited until they were reasonably sure that attention would be elsewhere, and made their way to the entrance. There were still a few scattered guards, but they were Masked ones and clearly distracted by the disarray of their Hive, so they slipped past them and away from the structure, heading towards the gate. 

The gate wasn't that far away. Far enough that the Wraith structure was hidden, but close enough that they probably monitored every activation of the gate, ready to pounce at suitable prey, or to defend themselves from enemies. Strategically, the facility was well-placed, which just made the lack of guards even more suspicious. 

As they approached the gate, a figure became visible, sitting in front of the gate, on the edge of the platform. A Blade, older and more practical than the others. When the rest had rushed to the explosion, this one must have headed to the gate instead. There was only one way off of the planet, after all. 

The Blade grinned at them, clearly expecting terror and despair. What he didn't expect was for Laura to mirror that grin, albeit with less sharp teeth, and pull out the second detonator, pressing the button with her thumb. 

This time, they could barely feel the explosion. There was a moment of shrill pain, and then a pressure John hadn't even realised was there lifted, his brain feeling like he'd stepped from a smoke-filled room and out into the mountain air. The Blade staggered across from them as his connections to the others snapped, the backlash washing across him. John would almost have felt sorry for him, if it wasn't for the snarl as he launched himself towards them. 

Wraith were strong, and this one was furious, shoving John out of the way to get at Laura, claws extended and teeth bared. He seemed to barely even notice the magazine she was emptying into his stomach. Whether he was recently fed or simply too furious to feel the pain, the effect was much the same. The bullets barely seemed to slow him down, and the rest of them found it hard to shoot, risking to hit Laura. 

Drawing his knife again, John slipped behind the Blade and grabbed a handful of white hair, using it to pull the Wraith's head back and himself closer, sinking the knife into the Blade's neck. He didn't have the strength to cut through tendons before being pushed away, but that didn't matter. The Blade had fallen back from Laura, and while one spray of bullets had been unable to take him down immediately, three P-90s were too much for him to handle. 

Stepping over the fallen body, John retrieved his knife and pocketed it. It was a gift, after all. 

The others were watching him again, but the commotion in the distance made it clear it was far from a safe place to linger.

"Dial a neutral gate," the dark-haired leader told the scientist. "We'll keep guard."

A clever tactic, dialling a gate on a neutral planet, one that said nothing about anything. John would have said the same, were he giving the orders. 

They were lucky. While there was no doubt survivors of the explosion, they didn't manage to regroup before the gate came to live. 

"Let's go!" The scientist called, and disappeared through the shimmery surface. The rest of them followed, the slight tug of gate travel nowhere as unsettling as it was running from a desolate desert world and into a lush, green field, light rain falling on their heads. 

For a while, none of them spoke, just gathered their thoughts and caught their breath. The two women clustered together, the darker one making sure Laura was alright. Wraith attack aside, her arm was broken, and the makeshift sling she'd made from straps was hardly the best. 

The leader watched them for a while, then checked in on the scientist before turning to John. 

"Thank you for the help," he said, giving John a small smile. "You probably saved Laura back there." 

"Just provided a distraction," John said, looking over at the two women. Laura seemed to be doing alright. 

The dark-haired man nodded. "Still," he said. "I'm grateful. Most people are too terrified of Wraith to go near them." 

A compliment, but also prodding for information. 

John gave a wry smile in return. "Not like I'm not scared of Wraith," he said. It was mostly the truth. He knew way too much about Wraith not to be scared of them. It just wasn't the same reasons most people were afraid of Wraith. "I'm just good at not freezing up when I'm scared." 

He'd always thought best on his feet. 

From the look the other man was giving him, he wasn't entirely convinced, but he didn't seem particularly suspicious, either. Presumably, he had his own secrets to keep. 

"Well, we're very grateful that you didn't freeze," he said eventually, smiling at John in a way that was oddly genuine. 

"I definitely am," Laura added, coming over. "And I'm sorry to break up this little party, but we should be getting back. I need someone to look at this arm." Given the awkward way she was cradling it to her chest, it probably hurt as hell.

The other two came closer, too, looking at John. They seemed curious about him, like they had been all along, but not excessively so. 

They couldn't have been in the galaxy that long, John suspected, not if they were still that willing to trust someone just because they had been in a cell with them. There were far too many people who used that as a tactic. Perhaps John just looked friendly. 

He mostly was. 

"I'm Major Evan Lorne," the leader of the group said, then indicated the others in turn. "This is Dr. Rodney McKay, Lt. Laura Cadman and Teyla Emmagan of Athos." 

John had been right when he suspected she was a galaxy native. He wasn't particularly familiar with the Athosians, but he knew of them. They weren't really on their radar, though knowing that they apparently had gifted among them was interesting. 

"Khael," John said, given them the name he generally used. "Of the Kel Toryn." 

He supposed he should feel bad about lying, given how readily they'd given their name, but he had been in the galaxy far longer than they had. His ability to trust anyone but his own had been ground to dust.

"You leave first," the scientist - McKay - said, trying to sound brisk. "We don't want anyone following us." 

Both women gave him clear "don't be rude" looks, but John just nodded. "No problem," he assured them, glad to see they had some self-preservation. "Nice to meet you. Hopefully the next time we meet, it'll be in nicer circumstances." He certainly wasn't planning on seeing the inside of any more Wraith cells for a long while. 

"I hope so too," Lorne said, giving him a smile. 

Picking the borrowed gun out of his bag, John handed it back to the major. "Thanks for letting me borrow this," he said. It was odd, holding a gun again. He'd gotten so used to knives and stunners that it felt wrong to use a gun. 

He turned around and dialled an address off of the top of his head, to another neutral and abandoned world. They weren't the only ones who preferred not having people seeing their address. He gave them a small wave before walking through the gate, immediately turning around and dialling another world. He really didn't want to be followed. Two more gates took him back to Dryna, a small planet inhabited by the sworn. A perfect place to store a dart while he was off lurking in Wraith cells.

Once in the dart, he once again dialled the gate, letting the ship slip through the gate and into space beyond. The Winterstar was currently orbiting a frozen gas giant, dark against the pale surface of the world below. John let the auto-pilot take over and just let the familiar sight welcome him home. The presence of the other Wraith had been a painful pressure, but coming back to the Winterstar always felt like a warm blanket settling over his mind. 

As the dart settled in its dock, John felt a weight lift off of him, one that was further lifted as he left the safety of the canopy and found himself facing the Master of Darts. 

"Hey Gale," John greeted, stretching a bit. "Everything alright here?" 

/Mostly,/ Gale confirmed, smiling at him. /There was an incident in the chemistry lab, but otherwise, it has been peaceful./

"Same old, then," John said, taking in the familiar feeling of Hive. "Got to go see the Commander. I have intel for him." 

Gale gave an affirmative noise. "I will tend to your dart," he said out loud, inclining his head. "It is good to have you back. You were gone longer than expected."

"Ran into something interesting. Literally," John said. He grinned and waved at Gale as he headed towards the Core. He still couldn't pinpoint locations, like Wraith could, but if there was one Wraith he could accurately track, it was Todd.

Of course, it wasn't as though there weren't only two given locations their Commander would be while on duty, so tracking him wasn't much of a trick. He was either at the bridge or in the Core, so finding him was never hard. A Commander didn't hide in his own Hive. 

The Core was the core of the ship in more than just name. It was the middle of the ship, the best protected area of any hive-ship, but it was the Core because it was the seat of the Hive Queen, not because it was in the middle of the ship. Traditionally, the Core had the thickest and strongest walls, the most elaborate doors to keep any mindsurge out, made to keep a Queen safe in case of attack. Their particular Hive had learned that it could also be a trap if the ship was attacked, the Queen unable to leave her chambers. It had changed many things around the ship. 

Not the least of which was the use of mental signatures as the way to move the very walls around the Core chamber. As John approached, the walls shifted to let him pass. A security measure, certainly, but it also felt like a welcome as he found himself led all the way into the heart of the chamber, kneeling down in front of the throne as the combined presences of his Commander and Queen washed over him.

The feel of their mental touch said much more than any words could, a warm feeling of welcome, of being home, of being right where he belonged. John closed his eyes and let it all wash over him.

Home. 

The sentiment echoed from his mind to theirs and back, a loop of welcome, the feeling of having been missed, of pleasure that he had returned safely. 

There had been a point when he had stood there at the gate with the others when he'd wanted to just tell them anything. To tell them that he was John Sheppard, formerly of the US Air Force, that he was the last of the last expedition. He just wasn't sure if it was because he wanted to go with them. Maybe their expedition was different. Maybe things had changed. But his expedition had been sent as a sacrifice, to go and see what was behind the gate, unable to come back unless they brought the fabled city of the Ancients with them. They had been sent to die, and die they had. 

Earth hadn't been home since — Since before Afghanistan. Even then there had been little for him, but he'd had his position and a mission he believed in. Nothing of that remained. Nothing of the expedition he had come here with remained. Nothing but John. 

This was his home. His Hive. 

He opened his eyes and looked at the Queen on the throne, at the Commander standing at her side. 

/Welcome home,/ the Queen sent, her mental feel soft as silk against his mind. 

"Thank you, my Queen," John said, and rose to his feet. "My Commander. I have some very interesting news."

**Author's Note:**

> *waves* It has been ages since I wrote anything. Between a years long writing block and ... well, the dumpster fire that has been 2020, I haven't had much in the way of creativity to spare. Still not sure I do, but at least there seems to be a trickle of inspiration happening. I have a lot of ideas, I just haven't been good at taking them from idea to actual writing.


End file.
